Clara Discovers the Doctor's Fetish
by pinkwetter
Summary: Clara discovers the Doctor's extremely taboo fetish and thinks it's hot.


_Characters: Clara Oswald and the Twelfth Doctor_

 _Summary: Clara discovers the Doctor's extremely taboo fetish and thinks it's hot._

 _ **Content: Desperation, wetting, self pissing, piss play and voyeurism.**_

 _ **Don't like? Don't read.** _

XXX

Clara's first suspicion occurred as a freak rainstorm soaked her and the Doctor. As she stood there, dripping from the rain, she noticed the Doctor's white buttoned down shirt, waistcoat, navy blue crombie jacket and matching slacks looked completely dry. His gray hair was dark and wet, the curls slicked down against the back of his neck as if he just had a shower.

He noticed her glare. He smirked and a mischievous twinkle gleamed in his pale blue eyes.

"Gallifreyan weave. Keeps the wet out or in. Handy for situations like this. Also handy if you never want your enemies to see you sweat."

Clara narrowed her brown eyes and pointedly squeezed out her sodden brown hair. Her wet dark brown slacks clung to her legs and the purple blouse she wore under her black windbreaker didn't fare much better. Thank goodness this planet had a warm climate or she might be miserably chilled. How silly a petite person like her might look, shivering and drenched.

"You could've warned me about the sudden downpours," Clara complained.

"Oh, rainforest isn't enough of a warning?" The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets. After a minute he sighed and his shoulders relaxed. "Honestly, Clara," His voice had an odd note in it she didn't know what to make of, "Being wet never killed anyone...unless they got wet in freezing temperatures, that is. But only pudding brain idiots do that."

She huffed playfully back as the Doctor gave a little shake of his shoulders and walked away. The dry ground beneath the tree they took cover under was wet. Wetter than normal rain runoff.

Clara tried to shake the thought off. The Doctor was an alien who could hold his wee for who knew how long. She rarely saw him use the loo - actually she only saw him go to it at her flat.

Thinking about needing the loo had her realizing she needed to go. No point in taking her blue lace knickers down since she was already soaked. She sat on a wet log and contentedly pissed through her knickers and slacks. Not because she had to go badly. She just wanted to and it wouldn't be noticed anyway with her clothes already wet.

Her wee hissed loudly, tickling her clit. She pretended to pick at her fingernails. The Doctor glanced at her and walked away to examine the sky.

"More rain is headed towards us," He said.

Clara pushed her bum against the log to wring the excess wee off and stood. "I'm going back into the TARDIS. I'm already wet enough." She smirked as she walked past him, wondering if he smelled what she did.

The blue British police box was so familiar to her that it never looked out of place or odd to her no matter the setting. Clara stepped through the creaky door. As she closed it she saw the Doctor sit on the log she just used. Now she really began to wonder.

XXX

Clara found the TARDIS already in her living room when she arrived home from work. She bypassed the blue box to use her loo down the hall. She pulled her black tights down, pissed on the toilet through her gray cotton knickers and moaned in relief. Then she pulled her tights back up and rearranged her skirt so the wetness stayed close to her pussy. Just as casual as could be.

"Doctor?" She entered the TARDIS.

"Under the hood!" The Doctor called back from the floor below the main console.

"What'cha doing down there?" Clara called. He didn't like her venturing down there and she respectfully stayed on the main console floor.

The Doctor jingled some tools. "She made a bit of a noise when I landed her."

"The TARDIS always makes a noise when you land," She pointed out.

"Yes, but this was a different noise."

"Hm." Clara grabbed one of the monitors and twiddled a few buttons. The cameras below zeroed in on the Doctor. Now she could see him. She had a split screen - one on his face and another on his whole body.

The Doctor had on his space hobo outfit. Two T-shirts under a dark green hoodie and dark gray tartan trousers. He'd taken his hoodie and crombie off to better get underneath the control panel. He was laying on his back, his big bushy eyebrows frowning at something out of Clara's sight on the monitor.

Clara watched the Doctor's legs wriggle and bounce. The outline of his cock was obvious through his trousers. He wasn't wearing underwear. He kept bumping his knees together and his face had its usual severeness of intense focus.

"So what do you think is wrong?" asked Clara.

"Could be a fluid leak hitting a motherboard. Should be fine once I replace a few components."

"Ooh, I'll let you concentrate then. I've got some papers to grade anyway, so let's both work."

"Ah, thank you."

Clara got the papers out with no intent to actually work on them. They were already finished. She pulled her iPod out too and popped the earbuds into her ears. She had no intention of turning them on.

"I'm listening to my music, so give a shout if you need my attention."

"Of course." The Doctor bounced his legs faster. He worked one handed now, the other firmly gripping his crotch.

Clara enjoyed the view of his thighs flexing. He let go of his crotch to solder something and a small wet patch appeared near his fly. Oh, so these were regular trousers, eh? The Doctor's leg bouncing sped up. He suddenly closed his legs and straightened them as he unzipped his fly. He let his big uncut cock hang out. The puckered opening in his foreskin glistened with wee droplets.

The Doctor resumed jiggling his legs without bending them. Oh, the things that man did when he thought nobody was watching. Clara licked her lips. He grimaced and dribbled more wee onto his trousers, darkening them from the outside. A shift in position flipped his cock onto his stomach where he spurted again. He pushed it to point towards his feet and soldered two wires. Wee kept escaping one drop at a time, turning slowly into a thin, weak stream.

Clara saw the Doctor bite his bottom lip. His forehead wrinkled as if it hurt. Then he relaxed with a sigh and the weak stream became a huge fountain from his semi erect cock to soak his trousers. His foreskin gave his stream a very focused spray. He pissed like a racehorse like that for ten seconds before stuffing his pissing cock back into his trousers and zipping up. He casually kept weeing in the left leg of them as he soldered something to a motherboard and attached it somewhere out of sight of the monitor. The dark stain grew until most of his left leg glistened. He looked totally casual like it was perfectly normal to wet his trousers while working.

The puddle beneath the Doctor drained down a grating on the slanted floor. But first it hit the back of his shirt since he lay in the drain's path.

Now the Doctor wasn't working anymore. He lay there, eyes closed, enjoying the relief of his long wee. He gave a sexy post piss shudder of his shoulders and that was when she knew his bladder was empty.

Clara watched him dip his hand into his puddle and rub himself through his glistening tartan trousers. Her hand wandered under her skirt to fondle her damp crotch through her wet tights and knickers. It didn't take her long. She held her moan when she came. He didn't because he thought she was listening to her music. His voice was low and sexy and he bore his teeth as he added cum to his piss.

The Doctor splashed more of his wee on himself as he slid out from under the TARDIS engine panel he was working on. The splatter pattern on his clothes turned random, covering what he'd done.

Clara switched off the monitors and bent over her papers as the Doctor bounded up the steps. She'd orgasmed with a full bladder and it protested her ignoring it by giving her urgent signals to relieve it. She crossed her legs and ignored it.

Clara took her earbuds out and gaped at the Doctor's state, feigning surprise.

"Blimey, what happened to you?"

"Chemical spill," said the Doctor. He was still flushed and husky voiced from his recent orgasm. She liked how his Scottish accent sounded thicker.

She jiggled her legs and noticed his eyes lingering on her a moment longer than normal. "Is the TARDIS fixed now?"

He nodded. "Mmhmm. I'm going to wash up and then we'll see how she sings."

She grinned and pretended to mark the last paper. "Take us to an alien beach if it's fixed, okay?"

"Whatever, beach it is!" The Doctor called back as he squelched down the TARDIS hallway. His shirt was soaked halfway up the back and his trousers dripped a trail.

Now Clara began to suspect why the Doctor took so long to use the loo in her place. Maybe he put on a similar show and she wanted to see it. The question was how.

The Doctor reappeared in his usual business casual outfit. The TARDIS sounded perfect when he cranked the main lever.

He showed her a beach with sand made of mineral particles. A beautiful, sparkling place with a pale purplish sky. They walked around for hours and he pointed out several interesting rock formations and seashells.

The waves reminded Clara of her urgent bladder again. She pretended to jiggle because of the chilly breeze, which made her need to wee stronger still.

Clara hatched a plan while they were there. Okay, two plans. One was immediate. The other was something naughty, something dirty.

She accidentally on purpose wandered a little too close to the water. A wave washed up, wetting her to her knees.

"Oh!" Clara squeaked as the shocking coldness wrenched her bladder control away. A hot spurt escaped while she stood there, knock kneed and trembling.

"Clara!" The Doctor raced over, pulling her away from the water's reach.

She clung to his coat. "Wait! Wait, I'm - "

Her muscles failed and a hot stream of wee poured into the gusset of her knickers. Warmth spread out and trickled down to darken her tights above where the water wet her and pooled in the sand at her feet.

"I...the water startled me," Clara sputtered.

"Oh. Clara." The Doctor awkwardly hugged her to himself as if concealing her not-really-an-accident from the world. "There, there, accidents happen."

Her breath caught, "You're not upset?"

"Tch, why? It's just wee."

She relaxed fully and let her wee spray full blast while he held her. Closing her legs tightly narrowed her pisshole and made it burble and hiss loudly. She felt the Doctor's two hearts hammering in his chest and listened to his breathing deepen.

Suddenly, she realized his his trousers felt warmer against her stomach. The tip of his cock was right against her left hip. Still no underpants.

"You're going to get cold." The Doctor murmured. His voice had that odd note in it she heard in the rainforest. Now she knew it meant he was having a wee.

Clara pretended not to notice. She sighed as her bladder finished emptying and hugged him a little tighter against herself. She shifted to the right, which pushed his cock up towards his waistband. She relished the vibration of his stream hitting the fabric of his trousers. No wetness came through the material at all. He could piss in these trousers totally undetected. Well, aside from the puddles forming at his feet where the piss ran down inside the fabric to soak his socks and shoes. He went and went for what seemed like ages.

There was that sexy post piss shudder. She loved that, like a sleepy bear shaking off after hibernation. He kissed the top of her head. "Do you want to leave?"

"Yeah. It's a bit chilly. Take me home?" Clara asked as her hardened nipples poked through her shirt. She stepped back to let the Doctor get a glimpse of that before plodding towards the TARDIS. Did she imagine him spreading his coat to flash the tent in his trousers before buttoning it to cover up?

She politely took off her sandy tights and shoes before going into the TARDIS. As an afterthought, she removed her pissy knickers too.

He stole many glances at her. Sometimes she 'caught' him and smiled sheepishly. He just smiled his shy smile back and pressed a few keys. The TARDIS whirred to life and off they went.

The Doctor dropped Clara off at home. She kept the thick towel he draped around her like a blanket and casually scooped up her damp piss-scented tights and shoes. She 'forgot' her wet knickers.

The TARDIS had hardly dematerialized before she dumped her dirty clothes and raced into her kitchen. She rummaged for her toolbox and extension cord for her power drill.

Her bathroom wall had a busy floral print pattern. Nobody was going to notice a hole from inside. Outside was another story. The Doctor was annoyingly observant. Clara knelt and drilled half a meter to the left of the door, putting the hole above a bookshelf. She concealed it behind a decorative vase. He wasn't going to see that unless he went snooping.

Clara peeped into the hole. She had a complete view of her toilet and shower from just under the bathroom mirror. Perfect. Now she could call up the Doctor and invite him for dinner.

XXX

She noticed his leg bouncing as they had dinner together at her kitchen table. Steaks with plenty of wine and tea. Always the gentleman, he washed the dishes when they were done. His leg bounced the whole time as if he beat out the rhythm to music stuck in his head. And damn his legs looked good in those fitted piss hiding trousers.

"Oh, by the way," The Doctor produced Clara's wadded up knickers from his pocket, "You dropped these yesterday."

They were dry with a distinct crusted cumstain in the gusset.

"Oh! Sorry. Thank you." Clara swiped her undergarments from him and hurried to toss them in her dirty clothes hamper.

"I can finish that," She said when she returned to the kitchen.

The Doctor shifted his weight foot to foot. "No, you cooked. It's only polite that I clean."

"But you look like you need the loo."

His thighs flexed as if expressing his frustration. "I'm almost done, Clara."

He finished rinsing the last dish and set it aside in the drying rack. He didn't bother drying his hands before making a beeline down the hall.

Clara waited to hear the door close before tip-toeing to her hidden peephole. She saw the Doctor stripping to his red silk question mark boxer briefs and step into her shower. The outline of his long cock pointed to his left hip until he adjusted it closer to the waistband and released a torrent of piss.

He sighed, shoulders relaxing as he watched himself in the mirror above the peephole he didn't know Clara was looking through. A glistening wet stain spread across the red fabric and poured rivulets down both his legs. His stream gained strength until it gushed straight through his boxers with a loud hiss.

"Ohh," The Doctor moaned. He cupped his hand in the stream and began rubbing himself. He pulled the waistband of his boxers away to expose his uncut cock. He let the jet of wee soak his chest before covering up and holding himself through his boxers as if weeing normally in the loo. He watched himself in the mirror the whole time, his face flushed with excitement. A shudder ran through him as his wee stopped flowing.

Clara had never seen anything so hot in her life. The Doctor made it better by wanking through his wet boxers until cum joined his piss stain. He stood there a minute with his eyes closed to savor his wet messiness. Then he casually got dressed again. Not a single hint of wetness showed through his clothes.

She was right. He had a piss fetish.

Clara hurried into the kitchen when the Doctor slid his shoes and socks on. She heard him flush the toilet and wash his hands. The door swung open and he strode back into the kitchen.

Now she knew why he took so long in the loo.

It was hard for Clara to look the Doctor in the eye now that she knew he wore wee stained boxers under his trousers. The vague smell of piss hung around him. Very faintly, easily passed off as something he stepped in outside.

"Thank you for dinner," said the Doctor.

She barely hid her smile as she faced him. "See you tomorrow?"

"Mmhmm. Mind if we do dinner again?" He lingered near her, almost as if he wanted her to notice the smell on him. Then he backed away, taking a swinging step towards the TARDIS. He was smirking.

"Can't wait," Clara grinned. Her own need for the loo was reaching a point to where she couldn't stand perfectly still.

She ran into her bathroom as soon as the TARDIS disappeared. He hadn't washed his piss out of the shower. There was a big puddle that didn't wick down the drain. She flipped the back of her flowy blue skirt up and sat down in it, letting it soak into her pink cotton knickers. The wee was cold, but she didn't care as she shoved two fingers down her knickers and fingered herself to the mental image of the Doctor soaking his silk boxers.

It didn't take her long to reach a jaw clenching orgasm. She relaxed against the wall with her legs straight out in front of her and enjoyed a lengthy hissing wee that warmed her knickers and bottom.

Tomorrow, she was going to let the Doctor know she was onto him.

XXX

The Doctor arrived just before dinnertime the very next day. His eyes went immediately to the towel on the floor in front of the couch. The same towel he gave her after she wet herself during their beach excursion.

"I spilled some tea there," said Clara when she noticed him looking. She went on, "Do you mind if we stay in after dinner? I had a long day. The kids were rough and I'm exhausted."

He shrugged like it didn't matter. Dinner was meatloaf seasoned with spices. They drank several cups of tea.

The Doctor's leg was bouncing at the table again. He kept stopping himself and didn't fidget while washing the dishes. As he dried the them he suggested they watch a movie.

Clara found a stupid B-movie about giant iguanas. She figured the Doctor wouldn't like anything too realistic and she noticed he didn't go to the loo despite his obvious urgency.

They sat on the couch together. The Doctor predictably sat with his feet on the towel. He let his legs flop apart in a typical man-spread. Clara playfully shoved his knee aside to sit next to him.

She kept one eye on the movie and the corner of her eye on the Doctor. He'd pulled a flap of his coat across his lap to hide that he was holding himself. She pretended not to notice him suddenly press his knees together and let them flop apart again. He did it three different times.

Clara heard the splats of piss hitting silk. The Doctor bit his lip as he spurted, each one audible. He adjusted himself to point up towards his waistband and sat up straighter with his knees together Finally he lost control and the splats became a steady gurgling hiss. He sighed through his nose. His shoulders relaxed and he sat back again. Clara had a hard time pretending to be interested in the movie when she knew he was wetting his trousers like that right beside her.

"This movie is so...what is that human word you use? Cheesy." The Doctor said when he reached full stream. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee and continued weeing like it was the most normal thing in the universe.

"It's cheaply made." Clara snorted, sparing a glance at his foot where a rivulet of yellow fluid ran out the back of his left trouser leg and soaked into the towel.

"I can see the strings holding up their tails," said the Doctor. He sighed again, content. He was still going, his bladder must have been quite full.

Clara's whole body trembled with excitement because he had no idea she knew what was going on. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and covered herself up to the neck with it.

The blanket hid her flipping her skirt out from under her bottom. She playfully threw the edge of it over him too. He stopped weeing - whether he was empty or saving some was anyone's guess - and covered himself up to his neck too.

Clara reached into her knickers and slowly rubbed her aching clit. She heard the squelching of the Doctor fondling himself. His movements jiggled the couch ever so slightly. He tensed, bit his lip and exhaled heavily. She came shortly after he did, turning her head to avoid him seeing her face.

Clara tried to hold her piss in after her orgasm. She kept one hand tight against her crotch. The movie was two thirds of the way through when she gave up and let some hot wee pour out into her cotton boxer briefs knickers. The black felt couch cushion got warm as it soaked it up.

"I think I see the strings now," She said contentedly. The wee tickled her sensitive clit as it flowed messily through the gusset of her knickers. Bloody hell, it was hot to be totally pissing herself without him knowing. No wonder he got off on it so hard.

"Yeah?"

Clara cut her stream off even though it hurt to do so. She was still bursting when she flung the blanket off them and swung herself over to straddle the Doctor's lap.

"I know what you just did. I know what you've been doing," Clara whispered in his ear.

The Doctor's cock twitched beneath her. His eyes got huge and his face suddenly took on that Doctor like smirk he got when he uncovered someone's plan. He moved his bushy eyebrows up and down.

"The engine cameras light up when they're activated. And I know about the hole in the bathroom wall, so I put on a show both times. Clara, Clara, Clara, the odor of your wee and your pheromones are as obvious to me as perfume. Do you think I couldn't smell you having a wee right here with me and getting horny from it?"

"Do you think I couldn't hear you doing it?" Clara countered him. She realized she heard that gurgly hiss off and on throughout their adventures, yet never attributed it to what it was until recently.

"I expected you to catch on." He grinned, licking his lips. "I only use the loo to poo. I have long underpants I can wear under the tartan trousers when don't want the wee to show."

Clara inched her face closer to his. "That takes discrete to a whole new level."

The Doctor leaned forward. "Yes, it does."

They kissed. First with lips, then deepening to tongues.

Clara emptied the rest of her bladder into her knickers while astride his lap. A long, loud stream that poured onto his trousers and ran off around his hips onto the couch. She loved how he moaned into her mouth and slid a hand down the back of her knickers. His gracefully long fingers easily reached her gushing piss hole. He moved his fingers through her stream, teasing her. She stopped weeing and undid his fly to grab him through his wet silk boxers. He moaned again as she tugged it free and shoved the tip up the leg of her boxer briefs knickers.

"Clara," groaned the Doctor.

"Go in my knickers," gasped Clara, "Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She felt him relax and his powerful piss stream jetted against her engorged vulva. He pissed like a fire hose and she relished the hiss as it forced its way through his puckered foreskin. She was so turned on she came again, moaning into his mouth. His wee stream shrank and died to a dribble before stopping completely. Now he gave that little shudder that she loved so much.

Clara rewarded him by humping his hard shaft with her wet knickers until white globs of cum dotted his black holey jumper. He cried out as he came like he cried out while working on the TARDIS engine the other day.

They sagged against each other, soaked and smelling of piss. Clara slid her knickers off because they annoyed her now. The Doctor recovered quicker than she imagined possible, and they fucked right there on her wet couch. Their simultaneous orgasm was more intense than the ones they experienced before. Clara enjoyed a relaxing wee on the Doctor's softening cock as they relaxed in the afterglow. He kissed her deeply while she did it.

From that moment on they shared a fetish that brought them great and naughty pleasure.

XXX

The Doctor gave Clara several articles of Gallifreyan clothing made of the same material as his trousers. They felt like regular leggings, skirts and slacks. The insides got wet feeling while being pissed in, but kept the wetness from soaking through outside. The wetness that usually showed outside ran out of the bottoms instead, leaving puddles on the floor. This barrier worked both ways. She spilled tea on the leggings once and only felt the warmth while the tea ran off the material without staining. What amazing design.

Clara stopped using the loo for anything besides having a poo or changing her tampons. She became talented at standing in the grass, on grating or near a curb so nobody saw the wee pooling at her feet. She kept a towel on the floor under her desk and enjoyed pissing during class. It was naughty, knowing she could wee any time she wanted without anyone knowing, but she pitied her students when they showed obvious distress. She always granted them restroom access when they asked.

Traveling with the Doctor in the TARDIS became a lot more fun with their fetish out in the open. Clara loved embracing the Doctor from behind and listening to his long, hissing wees as much as he enjoyed hearing hers. Sometimes she stuck her hands into his trousers to feel the stream spray through his boxers and sometimes she asked to watch him piss all over himself. He liked to rub her through her knickers while she pissed torrents all over his hand. He also loved it when she pulled her knickers aside and emptied her bladder on his chest. He greatly enjoyed watching her squirm until she lost control and she rewarded him with a show every time. His displays of desperation were a joy to watch too. She loved watching him wet his tartan trousers.

Once, he took her out into deep space and shut off the gravity. She watched him hold himself as he floated in the console room. He wore his tartan trousers and the first spurts showed immediately. His wee soaked through and clung to his clothes instead of wicking off. The blobs of wee grew around his shiny crotch as he pissed and only tapping his leg or wiping with his hand sent them flying freely as little spheres of amber. He left hilarious little trails of floating wee when he kicked off a railing and zoomed across the room while pissing full blast.

Clara decided to give it a shot and emptied herself under her skirt. She felt the wee gush out and immediately cling to her body. Like doing it in a swimming pool or bathtub, except she had the delicious sensation of feeling it spray out of her body. She lifted up her skirt to show him the huge blob of piss clinging to her legs right before she slapped them together to send little globules drifting away.

She found herself envying how he could take his cock out and piss spirals, zig zags and rings. All she managed was a messy jet.

They floated together, watching their piss combine near the ceiling. The Doctor led her back to the floor and switched the gravity back on. All that piss rained down to soak them and everything else. They fucked on the floor in the midst of their mess.

Clara wasn't a bedwetter, but she discovered the Doctor was. He liked to sleep nude because of it. She convinced him to sleep in her bed because she wanted to see it happen. What a marvel it was to watch his cock dribble and gush on his stomach or leg or the mattress while he slept, unaware. She liked to aim him at her and let his wee wet her pajamas. He never went to the loo when he woke up, choosing instead to piss in whatever position he happened to be lying in. There was a morning where he lay on his back and let his wee become a fountain that sprayed the pillows and their hair. Clara watched him do that the first time and immediately spread her legs to release a torrent at his feet. Why waste a good wee? They looked at each other and grinned.

Sometimes he wore his silk boxers to bed. Clara loved the gurgling hiss of his strong wee flow. She often rubbed him through his boxers while he pissed himself in his sleep. She repaid him by letting him watch her wee her knickers on the mattress. Her morning wee always hissed the loudest and smelled the strongest. He took much enjoyment in rubbing her through her knickers while she pissed in them.

There was one delicious morning where he rolled over on top of her and tucked his cock down the front of her pajama bottoms. She woke up to him gazing lovingly into her eyes. Then he pissed long and hard on her clit until she came. He pulled her pajama bottoms down to lick her clean. He made her cum so hard a second time. She got him back by weeing all over his hard cock and sucking it until he moaned her name.

They wore their piss hiding clothing while out in public. When alone, they wore things that showed it, and casually pissed themselves whenever they wanted. The Doctor liked to wait until he couldn't hold it anymore and lost control. Clara enjoyed weeing whenever it suited her. Sometimes he flopped his cock out and pissed on his clothes or let it dangle to wet the couch. She had fun sitting in his lap and weeing on it like a loo.

And so the Doctor and Clara continued their adventures in space and time, only now they vaguely smelled like piss and cum. Their clothes were always wet or piss stained, and they loved it that way.

XXX

Weeing their clothing wasn't always sexual for Clara and the Doctor. Sometimes it was a simple convenience to not stop in the loo. Clara enjoyed coming home, dropping her bag and wandering into the kitchen without having to go right to the toilet. She often pissed in her Gallifreyan slacks, leggings or skirts while reading her bills for the enjoyment of wetting garments that didn't show it on the outside.

Another time, Clara walked into the TARDIS that had become a familiar sight in her living room. The Doctor was working under the engine again, except now he permitted her to venture down there with him. She saw his velvet coat draped over a railing, leaving him just in his navy blue trousers, waistcoat and crisp white shirt with the unbuttoned sleeves rolled up.

"The TARDIS making the noise again?"

"No, this time there was banging. I know exactly what it is, it's the fixing that's taking up time. It's the..." The Doctor dissolved into a bunch of technobabble Clara couldn't keep up with if she tried. He twisted to lay on his side and she heard the familiar gurgle hiss of his wee stream hitting the inside of his Gallifreyan piss hiding trousers. He pissed and pissed without missing a beat with his tools.

Clara greatly enjoyed pairing the leggings with knee or thigh high boots. The Doctor sprayed the insides of her boots with something that kept the wee from damaging them. It came in handy when she woke up one morning late for school and only had time to dress, brush her teeth and apply makeup before flying out the door. She clutched the pole in the train she almost missed and forgot for a short time that her clothing wasn't going to show wetness.

There were people all around. She closed her eyes and relaxed, feeling the hot piss soak her crotch and pour down inside her leggings into her boots. She kept her legs slightly apart to minimize the hissing. That was a big gusher. Nobody around her had a clue. At school, cleanup was as simple as dumping the piss out of her boots in the ladies restroom.

The Doctor liked to read a lot. There wasn't a single time where Clara didn't hear him piss a hard, long stream into his trousers without looking up from his book. And she never forgot the time she saw piss pouring out of his trouser legs as he strummed his electric guitar. She caught that on video on her phone and masturbated to it frequently.

XXX

"'Ello, Doctor, I'm-" Clara paused in her doorway after a long day of noisy kids.

The Doctor had fallen asleep on her couch. He sat upright with his arms crossed and chin on his chest, snoring faintly. Sometimes he traveled so long he forgot to sleep. There were predictable small puddles by his feet from wee dribbling out as he slept. That was hot - seeing him dressed in his fancy velvet jacket with piss by his feet.

Clara ran a hand over his gray hair and walked into the kitchen to make tea. He woke up at her setting their teacups on the coffee table. "How long have you been home?"

"A few minutes," Clara said.

The Doctor stretched and straightened his right leg. Piss dribbled then poured out of his trouser leg as he relieved himself where he sat. Clara enjoyed the sight and sound. He smiled sleepily at her, adjusted himself towards his waistband and pushed to make his wee spray in a loud hiss. A small gesture that turned it from convenience to sexy in a flash. Clara squeezed her legs together and watched him rub his bulge.

"You're mine after tea," She said pointedly.

He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and accepted the teacup she handed to him.

"I want to save up a big wee just for you."

"Make sure you wear those silk boxers and tartan trousers when you wet." Clara's pulse jumped at the notion of seeing the Doctor desperate.

"So you can see me get wet?"

Her pussy got wet thinking about it. "Mmhmm."

XXX

And the next day she had a hard time keeping her mind on work. Her phone vibrated for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. She checked it to find a dozen more text messages from the Doctor. All of them asking her if he could wee yet. He was asking in jest as a pointed reminder of their game. She replied back that he had to wait until she was off work. He sent her a ten second video of his leg bouncing as he stood by the TARDIS console. She knew by the speed and amount of bounce that his situation wasn't dire yet.

That day, Clara wore her favorite emerald green satin knickers under gray Gallfreyan slacks that went with her tight black top and floral embroidered cardigan. Strappy black stiletto heels gave her outfit its finishing pop. She sat quietly at her desk while her students bent over a lengthy essay test. A glance at the clock let her know the time was up.

"Pencils down and pass your tests forward," said Clara. She stood to ensure nobody tried to scribble last minute answers and allowed her nearly full bladder a small spurt in her knickers. Wet satin felt wonderful against her clit.

Papers rattled and a few students giggled while passing their tests forward. She collected them into a neat pile and tried not to fidget too much. Class ended five minutes later, turning the quiet classroom into scraping chairs, footsteps and scraps of conversation.

Finally, lunch break!

Clara reclaimed her desk chair and used the stiletto heels of her pointy black shoes to drag the towel under her desk closer. She relaxed her muscles enjoyed a long, hard, hissing wee. Her knickers got warm and wet and rivulets licked her thighs. The slacks showed nothing; the only evidence was the streams of fluid running off her ankles onto the towel. Nobody could see her feet unless they walked behind her desk - for that she was grateful. She lifted her feet slightly and tilted them up so her piss ran off the tips of her heels.

Clara texted the Doctor again to tell him she was weeing and he better not wee too. He sent back a sad emoticon. She sent him a video of her piss streaming off her stiletto heels and reminded him again that he better not wee in his trousers without her.

She finished her wee and wiped her shoes on the towel. A tiny spritz of perfume erased the scent evidence of her naughty deed. Then she got up to go into the teacher's lounge for lunch.

XXX

Clara walked into her flat three hours later. She let the Doctor know she was on her way home. There was the TARDIS in her living room and there was the Doctor sitting at the kitchen table with an empty lemonade jug nearby. Good, he drank it all. He clutched himself through his tartan trousers and bounced both legs alternately. Large, fast bounces meant a very dire need indeed. Clara's pussy got wet at the sight of his graceful long fingers clutching at his cock like that.

"How was school?" The Doctor asked in a strained voice.

"Fine." She kissed him and took a little pity in the way concentration drew his bushy eyebrows together. Her hand slid across his chest and downward to touch the one holding his cock. The Doctor's semi-hard cock was almost retracted into his pelvis from the effort he put forth into not wetting himself. Just above it, the bulge of his very full bladder. There was a dark wet streak near his left hip where he lost a spurt. He started bumping his knees together, his breath coming in short gasps like someone drowning.

Clara licked her lips at the sight of the Doctor so helpless and desperate.

"How badly do you have to go?" She asked.

"It's all I can think of. You were gone nine hours. I've been doing timey wimey things for seventy-two and I didn't wee once." The Doctor gasped and bore his teeth. Another tiny dark stain appeared by his hip. His knees scissored faster and the hand on his cock tightened into a vice grip. He pushed his cock to point upward at his waistband without loosening his hold on it.

Clara smirked at him. "Take your hand off yourself."

He did what she said. She heard a faint splat. Another wet spot formed by his fly.

"I'm...leaking!" The Doctor gasped for air between each word. His thigh muscles tightened and he pressed his knees together again. The wet spot grew from the wee dribbling slowly down his shaft. He suddenly jumped to his feet and hobbled towards the kitchen counter. He could not stand up straight without leaking. He looked pleadingly at her through blue eyes glazed in a mix of fear, arousal and sheer desperation.

Clara placed her hand on his damp package. She rubbed his balls through his trousers. The Doctor took her other hand and tightly clutched it. His grip tightened when he fought another spasm resulting in a loud spurt. He tensed every muscle he had to stop it again. His lips pressed into a firm line and she knew his bladder was at capacity.

Another spurt gurgled into his trousers. The stain by his fly widened. A shiny dribble ran along a fold of material above his groin to shoot down his leg. He patted both hands on the counter behind him and marched in place. His bum flexed with effort. Clara watched another dribble run down his leg. He was spurting uncontrollably. The Doctor, a man of perpetual control, was losing control. He gave a small gasp and doubled forward again. His face muscles were in on it now. He grimaced, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

The Doctor gulped air into his lungs. He jerked himself up to stand straight with a faint whimper. Piss suddenly exploded out of him with the loudest gurgling hiss Clara ever heard. The crotch of his trousers was instantly dark and shiny, the wetness rapidly spreading upward towards the waistband and downward to encapsulate both legs. She heard the hissing weaken as he tried in vain to stop himself.

"Oh...oh Clara, I can't stop it. I can't...oh, Clara!" The Doctor pressed his legs together once more and gave up. He moved his legs slightly apart in a typical guy piss position and relaxed completely. The hissing got louder as he stopped trying to hold it back. He threw his head back, mouth open and groaning as if in the throes of orgasm. Three days worth of piss poured out of his trouser legs onto his socks, shoes and created a fast growing lake on the linoleum floor. He went so much his trousers became uniformly wet and he was still going.

Clara's feet splashed into the growing puddle. She wrapped her arms around the Doctor's neck and gazed lovingly into his eyes while his wee continued to hiss into his trousers. She smiled at his blissful expression and pulled his face close to french him.

They began to make out and grind against each other. The Doctor's stream lost its force as his cock hardened. He shoved a hand greedily into the front of her slacks and she rewarded him by pissing through her knickers on his fingers. He flicked his finger through it in circular motions, playing with her clit. The hot wee streamed down her legs to join his.

Clara stopped him before she came and pulled the slacks, cardigan and shirt off, leaving her only in her pissy knickers and heels.

The Doctor was still weeing slowly now because of his erection. Clara pulled the gusset of her panties aside The Doctor took his dribbling cock out of his trousers and laid her in his lake of piss as he guided himself into her pussy. They fucked frantically like starving animals that finally found food. Their motions splashed his piss everywhere. Clara could not contain herself when she felt his piss soaked clothes on her skin. She came explosively and noisily. His orgasm was equally loud and intense.

She slipped off his cock when it stopped throbbing and they snogged some more. He stuck his cock back inside his trousers started weeing full force again when it softened.

"Clara, I'm still having an accident," said the Doctor with a teasing gleam in his eyes.

"You sure are," Clara retorted, nibbling his bottom lip. She loved that hiss and the warmth of his piss pouring through his soaked trousers onto her. She grabbed his bum and cupped her other hand under the trickle dripping off his fly.

He pushed to make it hiss louder and dribble harder. "Mmh...feels so good..."

She kissed him until he did his little shiver that indicated he was empty. Their combined piss filled the kitchen with a most erotic odor.

"Stay the night?" Clara asked.

The Doctor nodded with a smile. He nuzzled his mouth across her ear. "I'll wee the bed."

"I know."

XXX

Holding for so long tired the Doctor's bladder out. Clara noticed he couldn't hold anything for long and pissed uncontrollably whenever the urge was strong enough. He wet and re-wet his trousers twice during dinner and once as he washed the dishes. He assured her this was normal after a marathon hold and that it took him twenty four hours to recover.

Watching him casually wee himself while talking to her and washing dishes was extremely sexy. His soaked trousers clung to his legs like a shiny second skin.

Clara continued enjoying his repeated accidents when they watched some TV. He flopped his cock out of his trousers and pissed on the cushion any time his bladder spasmed. Clara found his wee arcs impressive. He shot one halfway across the room! Once or twice he aimed at her when she wasn't looking and squirted her. She saved her wee until she was squirming and suddenly stood over him. She pissed on his face through her knickers. He jacked off until his cock got hard and they fucked on the pissy wet couch.

They showered together to wash the piss off their skin. Just before, they stood body to body and snogged as they let their wee flow onto their feet.

The Doctor stayed nude when they retired to bed. He didn't use the loo despite being urgently in need of it again. Clara put on a fresh pair of purple satin knickers and pulled the blankets up over them as she turned off the light. She stroked the Doctor's gray hair as he drifted off to sleep in her arms.

He snored a few times and turned onto his side to face her, seeking her skin in the depths of slumber. She felt a warm dribble on her thigh. He always pissed spurts in his sleep because he didn't push it out while sleeping like he pushed when awake.

Clara relished the little bursts of wet warmth. The Doctor wet the bed until he was empty. He still did his post piss shiver and grunt in his sleep. She thought that was cute. She drifted off to sleep to the sound of his breathing.

They woke up still facing each other in a wet bed smelling of cold piss. Clara rolled over to invite the Doctor to spoon with her. He slipped the tip of his cock into the back of her knickers and flooded them with fresh piss. His stream vibrated the satin gusset as it gurgled and gushed right through onto the mattress. She let go too and they sleepily pissed in her knickers together like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Good morning," murmured the Doctor.

"Morning," Clara yawned, her stream gushing harder as she stretched her arms over her head.

He tweaked her nipples and reached down to feel her soaked satin knickers. This served the double duty of fingering her swollen clit. She got turned on by feeling his cock getting hard. He slipped his hardening cock out of her knickers and let it rest against the wet gusset. He breathed heavily as he continued to finger her through the wet material and wasn't long before she came with a sharp gasp.

"Clara," The Doctor groaned in her ear. She shivered at his Scottish burr flipping the 'r' sound. He said her name again as if he worshiped her. His cock throbbed and semen joined the mess of pussy juice and piss. He was so turned on that he got off without being stroked. He finished his morning wee while kissing her behind the ear.

Clara couldn't think of a better way to start the day.

 _THE END_


End file.
